In the media, doctors in the philippines are making headlines due to their mass exodus to work abroad as nurses. In this particular article which I read in the Inquirer, a top surgeon who was making P100,000 a month still saw it difficult to stay in the country and decided to work abroad as a nurse. Sorry, but I don’t believe the pathetic BS about his decision not being about the money. It is always about the money. Why even bother to mention the amount, anyway? $4,000 a month is a lot if you convert that amount to pesos. But if you live in the States, you will spend dollars – like everyone else. It’s the standard of living in the country and one’s personal lifestyle that dictates how much one can save.

Can’t say I blame the doctors at the lower end of the food chain, so to speak, for wanting a higher pay and better life for themselves and their loved ones. But what’s this so-called “top” surgeon who’s earning 100k a month, and still wanting to leave? I don’t get it. Why is it that inspite of the unique opportunity to serve his countrymen, to become great by making the ultimate sacrifice of forsaking his dreams in order to serve his countrymen, the lure of the great American dream ultimately proved to be too strong to resist? I can almost understand if he were to move elsewhere in order to improve his status, like to be the best surgeon in the best hospital in the world. But to be a nurse? No offense to our great Filipino nurses, but for a top-rate surgeon to give up his status in the country, and to take on a job which he is clearly overqualified for is evidence of how low our morales have sunk. Where is the striving for greatness? Is this the kind of legacy we would like to leave to our children and our future?

When I was about to graduate from high school, I had to make the critical decision of what course to take. My family was not rich, and if there was any straightforward way that I could help alleviate our condition, it was to take a course that would ensure the biggest economic gains after graduation. Back in the latter part of 80’s, the high demand for nurses abroad was already in full swing. And indeed, most of my female classmates eventually took up nursing, a fact that to me now is really ironic, given that we were educated in science-based curriculum. Of course I do not know their personal circumstances, like if they were pressured by their parents or peers. What I do know is that I myself had been through a similar kind of pressure. I was strongly advised to take up nursing, or even physical therapy or medical technology. I knew that if I did so, I would be ensured of a high-paying job, however not in the Philippines, but abroad. But deep inside I knew in my heart that I had to strive higher, to dream, to aspire for greater things. I knew in my heart that money could only get me so far, and even if in the eyes of my family I would be great because of my economic contribution, I would be denying myself the opportunity of harnessing my fullest potential. I knew from the start that I wanted to be involved in the sciences. I decided to take up Physics, although at that time I thought that the most I could be was to be a teacher or lecturer in a university after I got my degree. I didn’t know that it would actually be my stepping stone for a lot of other things that happened in my life. Fortunately, although my Dad could barely comprehend this obscure subject, he was all-out support for me. He trusted my judgement. He could barely put me through college, but not once had he told me that money was to be my ultimate goal for my education.

As my favorite columnist, Conrado Dequiros, once wrote: “…the role of education is to educate.” It is to expose our fertile minds to the rich, vast knowledge that has been accumulated by man since the dawn of time. It gives us a chance to stand upon the shoulders of the great thinkers of our time and look out toward the infinite possibilities ahead.

And most of all, it gives us a chance to conquer mediocrity and strive for greatness.

“SPVC,” the doctor said. “Supraventricular, ahm…contraction. I’ll go look up what “P” stands for,” he added in Japanese. Actually, he didn’t have to. I knew what the word was. I have already done my homework. Cautiously I suggested that the word was “premature.” Still, he left the room and came back with a dictionary. “Ah, here it is. Premature. Supraventricular premature contraction. Esu-pee-bui-shee.”

Long before I went back to the hospital for my last and what I had hoped to be my final consultation with the doctor, I have already made my self-diagnosis. Since my so-called “attack” last month (Oct. 2), I have been acutely aware of my heartbeat, and I could feel every heart flutter, every day. Some days are quieter than the others, some days are marked by just too many flutters. It feels like a pause in my heartbeat, followed by a sudden flop feeling. If I feel my pulse, it would seem as if my heartbeat stopped, followed by a rather heavy beat. There are no other symptoms whatsoever.

Premature ventricular contraction on ECG.

All the tests came out normal. W. N. L = within normal limits. Aside from the ECG, blood test, x-rays performed at the ER, during subsequent visits I also had the 24-hour Holter monitor and heart ultrasound. The holter monitor is actually a cool gadget which records the heart’s electrical activity, a 24-hour ECG on-the-run. I wore the recorder on my belt as I did my daily chores. As it turned out, based on these tests, my heart is structurally sound, with really nothing to worry about.

Premature contractions may either be classified as atrial or ventricular in origin, hence the acronyms “PAC” for premature atrial contractions, and “PVC” for premature ventricular contractions. I couldn’t quite find enough resources on “SVPC”, but I could only suppose that it is also ventricular in origin, the term “supra” involving an area further up the ventricles. Here is a good description I found on the internet:

Ectopic heart beats are common but they are abnormal only when they occur at a frequency of more than 1 in 10 beats. Premature contractions may be of atrial (much more common) or ventricular origin. Immaturity of the conducting system may be the origin. The diagnosis is made by passing an M-mode cursor through one atrium and one ventricle. Premature atrial contractions are spaced closer to the previous contraction than normally and may be transmitted to the ventricle or blocked.

Premature ventricular contractions present in the same way but are not accompanied by an atrial contraction. Premature ventricular contractions are often followed by a compensatory pause due to the refractory state of the conduction system; the next conducted impulse arrives at twice the normal interval, and the continuity of the rhythm is not broken. Premature atrial contractions are usually followed by a non-compensatory pause; when the regular rhythm resumes, it is not synchronous with the rhythm before the extrasystole. The distance between the contraction that preceded the premature contraction and the one following it is not twice the distance between two normal contractions but a little shorter. Another approach to the sonographic diagnosis is to evaluate the waveforms obtained from the atrioventricular valves, hepatic vessels or inferior vena cava, which demonstrate pulsations corresponding to atrial and ventricular contractions.

I asked the doctor many questions, if only to annoy him because I waited for too long to have his final diagnosis (it took a month, by golly!). During my first consultation with him he actually said that my condition might be “WPW,” or Wolf-Parkinson-White syndrom, based on the ECG results taken earlier. I was mulling this new acronym over while waiting for my papers at the lobby when he called me back again to his consultation room. Well, he took back everything he said earlier, apologizing for unnecessarily making me worry. Apparently he consulted a cardiologist in the hospital and was told that my ECG was normal, and “WPW” was just “kangeinikui” = unthinkable. I heaved a sigh of relief.

Anyway, most of his replies mostly confirmed what I already knew, from my readings on the internet. I guess I just wanted to be reassured. But there are a few hard facts to swallow:

1. This condition is untreatable. I could take beta-blockers if I wanted to, but I don’t want to f**k with my heart, not if I can’t help it.

2. Once diagnosed, it’s here to stay.

3. I was probably born with it. There are no known causes, except that which is already inherent in the heart’s structure. I know that Daddy also experienced irregular heartbeats. But the doctor assured me that it’s not always hereditary.

4. I am still trying to verify this, but a lot of my readings tell me that caffeine is one of the triggers, among other things like stress, alcohol, etc. I’ve been purged of caffeine for almost a month now, and still I get the flutters. I am still unsure of whether to shun coffee for the rest of my life.

PACs and PVCs have not been associated to a higher mortality rate among healthy individuals. Interestingly, the doctor mentioned that feeling the premature contractions could actually be psychological. He pointed out that while I reported feeling the flutters mostly at night, my holter results showed that most of the premature contractions occurred during the day, when I am mostly busy with other matters. At night, when I lay down to sleep, that’s the time I feel the contractions more because I am not preoccupied with anything else. It’s much like saying, it’s all in my head. Well, that’s what I’ll try to do from now on – try not to think about my heart too much. Ok, I’m writing a blog about it, but it’s a different thing. 😛

A wake up call? Maybe. It’s easy to relegate health down the bottom of our priorities, until it gives us a tug (at the heart, in my case, har har har) But it is definitely high time to start taking care of myself better.

I’ve been attending ISS (International Symposium on Superconductivity) since 1998. This symposium, organized by ISTEC, is held annually in Japan. This year, though, happens to be a rather special year, because for the first time, members of the CMPL (Condensed Matter Physics Laboratory) in NIP (National Institute of Physics), UP Diliman, had also participated. One of them happens to be my former adviser, Dr. Roland Sarmago. Somehow I knew that sooner or later we would meet in one of the scientific meetings on superconductivity, but never did I think that we would actually “converge” right here in Tsukuba. The first time I met a fellow Pinoy in ISS was way back in 1998 — some guy who was taking his PhD in Hokkaido University. Funny, I never saw him in the succeeding years. I envy the Indians, Chinese, and Koreans, who always manage to find their fellowmen in conferences like this. For the longest time I thought that I would be the only Pinoy representative. Until this year, of course. And I am so proud of them!

Anyway, Dr. Sarmago was surprised when I told him, “Do you realize that it has already been ten years since I left UP?” Has it really been that long? One thing I know, though, is that hadn’t been for CMPL, I would not be here. Dr. Sarmago was very instrumental in the shaping of my career path. My first ever paper, published in 1995, was the result of our efforts on the combustion method of preparing bulk superconductors. If that first paper had not been published, I doubt very much if I would still be working on supercon. I doubt it very much that I would even get the opportunity to come to Japan.

Reunited after 10 years. This photo was taken while touring the cleanroom (hence the Boysen-paint outfit), where I showed them our PLD systems. From grinding oxides to depositing thin films, yes, boss, I’ve come a long way!

One particular highlight of their visit to Tsukuba, aside from the ISS of course, was to actually listen to Prof. Alex Muller’s lecture at AIST. Alex Muller, to those not familiar with the name, is a Nobel Laureate. He was awarded the Nobel prize, together with George Bednorz, for discovering high-temperature superconductivity in the La-Ba-Cu-O system. It was their work that spurred the fervent research on superconductivity in the latter part of the 1980s. In the poster prepared by the organizers, his photo bore the caption, “Kouon Choudendou no Chichi,” which literally means, “The Father of High-Temperature Superconductivity.” But I guess that is only half-correct. The other “father,” Bednorz, seems to have abandoned superconductivity altogether and is probably working on a different field. So I guess there would not be any opportunity to see him in any supercon-related conferences.

The first time I saw Prof. Muller was in Vienna, where he delivered a special plenary talk during EUCAS. In a later session, finding no other seats readily available (it was difficult to get into the seats in the middle because those sitting near the edge had to stand up), I saw an available seat which happened to be right next to Prof. Muller, who was sitting at the second to the last seat. Well, I thought, it wouldn’t hurt to sit beside him, after all, I’m a nobody, he could go right ahead and ignore me, haha. However, as soon as the current speaker was finishing his talk, Prof. Muller turned to me and said, “You can go and sit inside (gesturing to the empty seats towards the middle)…I will disappear in a while.” Then he stood up and allowed me to pass. I smiled at him and sat maybe three seats away from him. I’m pretty sure that he would not – ever – remember that incident. But for me, I will always have that anecdote treasured in my heart. Frankly, I was “this close” to asking him for an autograph. I had to try very hard to contain my Pinas-bred fan-feelings for the man who was responsible for the field I fell in love with.

Interesting trivia: Muller was 60 years old when he was awarded the Nobel prize in 1987. Right now I’m just about half his age then. Kaya may pag-asa pa ako sa Nobel! 🙂

This year is Aya’s third year at the daycare, but this is the first time for her (and for us) to participate in the annual “undoukai” or sportsfest organized by the Takezono daycare. When she was in the “Tulip” class, or zero-old class, they as babies were of course exempted from participating. Last year, when she was in the “Bara” class or one-year-old class, we were in Florida the first week of October, so she also missed it. This year, we had no choice but to participate in the event – although begrudgingly so at first. The teachers had initially scheduled the event for October 5, and the children even had rehearsals weeks before the event. Alas, it rained on that day, so they postponed it for the following day – as long as it didn’t rain again. Well, the following day was a bit cloudy, and the ground was still wet from the previous day’s rains, but they decided to go ahead with it. So that means that we had to wake up very early for two consecutive days, because they make the decision about whether to hold the sportsfest or not on the day itself, quite very early in the morning. We had to wait for their call, at 6 am! Waking up early was also necessary, because we had to prepare Aya’s packed lunch for the day as well. At any rate, last October 6, I was really not in the mood for any sportsfest, and with such a gloomy weather outside, I couldn’t imagine how the kids would be able to enjoy it. I thought it was so cruel of them to subject the kids to some silly sportsfest. I mean, really, now! In this kind of weather?!! Bah, humbug. Call me the Mrs. Scrooge of sportsfest. This is not the olympics, baby, this is just the daycare sportsfest.

Aya and Baggy working hard to finish the relay. Prior to this basket-pulling Aya had to go through a “tunnel” first. That’s parent-child teamwork for you!

I was wrong on all counts. The weather sort of cooperated, with a bit of sunshine every now and then, and it even got quite warm sometime during 11 am or so. And oh boy, the kids had fun – their faces were beaming as they ran around the mini-oval. And the little kids in Aya’s class (2-3 year olds) were so AWFULLY CUTE while running like mini-athletes. The happy looks on their faces was worth every effort. It was the first time for me to participate in such an event – and so beforehand I couldn’t quite understand why we really have to bother with it, especially with kids at such a young age. I don’t recall having something like this when I was in preschool! Actually, I don’t think we have sportsfests for elementary children in the Philippines. Well, at least that goes for my experience in public schools. I reckon the private schools might organize something like this.

Twice I watched the video we took, and each time I could see how this sportsfest was worth every parent’s time and effort. I took a day’s leave from the office, and Baggy had to sacrifice four hours of his attendance to work. In my opinion, every dad of every kid there should try their darndest to attend it – sadly, about 70% of the parents there were “okaasans” (moms). The “otoosans” (dads) were obviously too busy with their work or whatever else.

The children not only had fun – they learned about teamwork and performing with one’s best. The parents constantly shouted, “Gambare!” (do your best) while their little ones romped around the field. I particularly liked the “track-and-field” game. Sometimes a kid would skid or stumble. But he/she would be cheered on by parents and teachers and would be encouraged to still finish the game by all means. I don’t know, I was just so moved by all of it.

All classes had games were the children were able to participate with their parents. Take note, there were no losers and winners. No individual was honored because he/she finished first, or ran the fastest. It was no place for individual recognitions, just friendly games of sorts where everybody could have a good time. Everybody got a medal. The five-year-olds got the real gold medals, though, while the other classes got these cute paper medals prepared by their teachers. They get the real ones because they will be graduating at the end of this fiscal year and will be moving on to kindergarten the following year. Also, all children were also rewarded with “Shabon dama” or bubble-making contraptions after the games.

Can’t wait till next year’s sportsfest!

Heartfelt congratulations to my batchmate and very good friend, Jon Co, and Cathy, who were married last September 12, 2005. Sorry I missed it! At least some of my family members were able to attend it. I kind of emphatize with Jon because of the long-distance “marital” affair that they had to put up with for the meantime. Well, at least you don’t have to wait for four long years like we did! 🙂

Congratulations and best wishes, Jon and Cathy!

Enough of the serious side for now. I have the wackiest sisters on earth; whenever I’m with them I can let down my guard and just be plain old me. We still sneeze at each other’s faces whenever we could. We still dry our wet hands on each other’s unsuspecting backs. We still observe other people and laugh about their appearances. We still communicate in our special language and sisters-only words. Baggy sometimes couldn’t understand what in the world we are talking about. We are all Daddy’s girls.

Miss you both, you wicked sisters.

Lai, hindi balanced. Karen and I still need an additional little head to insert between us 😛

Excerpts from an article written by Raj Persaud in September 10/11 issue of Financial Times (highlights are mine):

Winning Mental Ways

What is it that determines your sense of well-being? Is it the events in your life or your perception of what might have been?

An example of such thinking, referred to by psychologists as “counterfactuals,” is what takes place when you run to catch a train. If you almost make it, before the doors close on your face, you are often more upset than if you had arrived half an hour late for the train.

One of the most intriguing and controversial studies found that at the Olympic games in Barcelona 13 years ago, bronze medallists appeared happier than silver medallists. The finding was surprising not least because winning silver is by definition a better outcome than winning bronze. Why, then, the relatively long faces of runner-ups?

Why is it that silver medallists don’t look down rather than up when comparing themselves with fellow athletes? If a downward comparison makes us feel better in life, what drives some of us to incessantly compare ourselves with those doing better than us and, as a result, ensure we feel inadequate?

Both academic psychologists and economists have noticed that substantial increases in wealth are not accompanied by similar rises in well-being, and have explained this paradox by a human tendency to compare themselves asymetrically – in other words, we focus on those doing better than us.

Study after study on wealth and income finds that it is who we compare ourselves with rather than what we objectively have that determines our overall well-being, so it is the CHOICE of reference group that now becomes crucial in determining our happiness.

An intriguing exception to this thinking has been found in a study by Claudia Senik, an economist at the University of Paris at Sorbonne, and published in the Journal of Public Economics. She discovered that in unstable economies such as Russia’s, individuals take the reference income of the wealthy not as a discontented comparison but as an indication of their possible future. Senik argues that in certain economies individuals observing richer people around them take this as a sign that their own income may soon increase, which then adds to their happiness.

If it is what could be that determines our happiness, rather than what is, the good news is that we can seize control of our well-being by becoming more aware of what conspires in our environment to direct our attention to particular comparisons, expectations and alternative outcomes, and what moulds our thinking.

Yesterday we went around the block near our hotel, and to our surprise, found that most of the interesting sights could really be found practically around the corner. We went to see the famous Capuchin vault (foundation stone laid in 1622), the place where they kept the Imperial crypt. Crypt, you ask? Yes, a bunch of old bones of the Habsburgs imperial household. Surprisingly, it was not creepy at all. There were actually many visitors to the vault. We had to pay 4.00 Euro each to get inside.

The double sarcophagus holding Empress Maria Theresa (1717-1780) and her husband Franz Stephan (1708-1765).

Well, it’s all in the packaging (as in my title above). The double sarcophagus was so enormous, so elaborately done that it would be almost difficult to imagine that it was holding the bones of some dead persons inside. Well, not just any “ordinary” person. I guess even in death they want that to be known. They lived no ordinary lives. But then again, they’re no deader than the commoner buried in an unknown cemetery elsewhere. Death is humbling, the great equalizer. No doubt about that.

This is the last entry here while in Vienna. We will be leaving today for Japan. That’s an 11-hr, 30-min flight for us.

For the record, I would like to say that this is probably the most educational trip for me. Probably for Baggy too. We’d been to so many churches in a span of one week (and that’s many times more than we had ever been to in any given year, hehe). I will be posting more interesting pictures in our photo album later.

Plague column at the Graben square, high baroque built 1682-1693. Originally wooden, it was erected in 1679 and dedicated to the Holy Trinity to commemorate the plague which hit Vienna.

So what does it feel like to be in this amazingly vibrant, old but progressive city? Never mind the exhaustion and the jet lag, this is the place to be! We are currently lodging at Astoria Hotel, right smack in the middle of Karntner Strasse avenue, the haven of tourists and shoppers alike. The first night we spent here, we were treated to a piano solo-concert by some lady playing just across the street. Because there is no airconditioner in our room, we usually have to open the windows to let in the cool, fresh air from the outside. Thus we are usually treated to all sorts of sounds streaming in through our window, ranging from soothing music to outright annoying noise. Walking along this avenue, one can find all sorts of musicians and other performers doing their stuff for the amusement of passersby and gawking tourists like us. Walking along this avenue, we saw live performance by string musicians, a puppet show, a colorful native dance, and a number of young men doing breakdancing. So much vigor, sights, and sounds in one place.

It was pretty weird to actually visit the renowned Belvedere palace, after seeing the miniature replica in Tobu World Square. I can assure you that it is the real thing that was photographed here (hehe).

St. Stephen’s cathedral, undoubtedly by far the largest Gothic cathedral I’ve ever seen, is a few hundred meters away from our hotel. This cathedral is the city’s symbol, and is actually incorporated into the logo of this year’s conference. In fact, I agree with the president of the Vienna University of Technology when, during his welcome speech, he told everyone that Vienna is probably the most “culturally dense” city in the world. In our hotel room we have this large replica painting of Gustav Klimt’s “The Kiss.” Albertina, which houses a large collection of paintings, is right next block. We have already visited it and were treated to a visually enthralling collection of Rudolf von Alt’s works. Within a 2-km radius, one can access museums, theatres and operas, churches. Most shops are closed on Sundays, so we were told, because Viennese people are so religious that they all go to church. But then again maybe not everyone goes to church, really, as evidenced by the hordes of people walking along Karntner Strasse last Sunday when we went out.

At Schonbrunn Palace

Ah yes, the conference. The main reason why we’re here in the first place. Tried to absorb as much as I could, hoping to scavenge for new ideas in relation to my work. For some reason I feel as if this year’s Eucas doesn’t possess the same oomph as it had in the previous years. The largest delegation, as usual, comes from Japan. Well, that is not surprising at all.

Unfortunately, Aya has been sick since yesterday, and so we couldn’t go around as much as we normally could. Too many tourists in one place, I tell you – it is just the perfect brew for catching viruses and such. We really have to be choosy about where to take our little precious next time. We have learned our lesson the hard way. Still…the thought of spending all that time away from your loved ones…it could get pretty lonely and depressing when traveling alone. In the long run, it is really not the place where you go to that matters, but whom you go with. It is heartbreaking to think of our little trio not being able to go places together again.

Get well, Aya. We’re going home soon.

Been too busy to blog lately. No time for dillydallying and other trivial matters. Finally, my poster is finished and ready to go to the EUCAS conference next week. Before we leave, I thought I’d put here a preview of our poster.

When Baggy saw it, he could only utter one word. “Colorful.” 🙂

This is just one third of the total area of my poster.